Netta had recollections of falling asleep, resting atop of Ash.

When she woke up, it was alone in the bed that she had previously slept in with Erwinnia.

As she got out of bed, her head as lazy as her body felt dreadful sore. Netta felt a sick worry lodge and burrow itself inside of her.

Where is Ash?

As she brushed her teeth in the adjacent bathroom, Netta focused on the possibilities for why she had woken up, alone. And in that bed.

She could not shake off a bad feeling that she had been left by Ash, following a night of comfort and sex beyond anything that she had ever imagined - or was phobic of.

Sickly, she wondered if he had left her after she had proved that she wanted him.

She was walking down the stairs when she heard a loud, booming voice that she recognized, coming from the living room.

"-And so, I said, "Don't tell me that you didn't know that horns are a good sign of virility?"

The sound of ensuing feminine laughter rolled through the house and traveled up the stairs.

Netta clutched at the banister, afraid of not clinging mentally to the sound of his reverberating laughter. In a sprint, she rushed down the stairs.

Standing at the foot of the stairs, she looked into the living room to bear witness to a sight that she had never thought in her life that she would ever see.

Standing amidst a circle of the Witches of the Coven Gardenia, Ashwood stood in a glow of the multicolored christmas lights and the vague outside light added by the sun.

He stood heads above the women, dressed in a grey sweater that clung to the curves of his large, muscled body and wrapped partially around his neck to form a half turtleneck that opened at his throat.

His face - that gaunt, tanned, lined face that she had grown to know intimately - seemed to glow in happiness. Then there were the chaotic, massive, scythe-sharp horns that began just above his temples and curved over his head.

In the room full of milling Witches, with Ash looking as though he was just barely managing to remain standing with the ceiling of the room dangerously close to scraping against his horns.

It was impossible to for Netta to not keep her eyes stay riveted to him. She couldn't hear what was said in that room, but she saw as Ash smiled at a joke that was said, revealing for a brief moment, the sharp teeth that drove home the fact that Ash was not human.

Her mind swam and she found that she could not move.

Finally, it was Ash who turned to look at her, as though he had felt her eyes on him, or her preseance. The smile on his face faded a measure as he looked at her. In its place, however, was a burning that seemed to begin in his eyes, a roiling, kinetic energy that made Netta quiver.

It was only when Morgan, who came out of the kitchen behind her, shook her by her shoulder that Netta felt her gaze unlock from her Familiar.

"Ya awight?" Morgan asked, mouth full of a bite from a slice of fruit cake that she clenched in her bare right hand.

Netta said something to the Witch and looked back at Ash, unease trickling into her.

What she felt for him - wasn't it supposed to be that Witches were the ones who did the bewitching?

Ash looked at her, a knowing, somehow shy smirk on his lips.

From behind him and next to the Christrmas tree, Netta saw Lucia approaching through the throng of her family.

"The princess finally stirs!"

Netta felt her face burn in embarrassment at that term. "Why was I out that long? I'm surprised that no one came to get me."

Lucia, standing in front of Netta, shrugged and smiled.

"It's a holiday, we figured - why bother waking you up? You looked exhausted, anyhow."

As much hopeless love that Netta felt for the Monster, when Ash coughed she could have hit him, if only he had been near her when she did.

Her mortification was almost complete when a few of the Witches snickered.

Lucia continued, saying, "We typically have a Christmas party - gift exchange, alcoholic beverages, dancing -"

"Alsoholic beverages," Morgan repeated happily, taking in another bite of the fruitcake slice.

"- we play a movie -"

"Alcoholic beverages," Wu added, grinning.

Lucia turned to look at Wu for a moment, a disapproving, motherly frown on her face. "Very funny. Yes, alcoholic beverages-"

This time it was both Wu and Morgan who shouted it out, almost in unison. "Alcohoooliicc beveragggesss!"

Lucia dropped her face into her hand and mumbled something under her breath. When she resurfaced out of her hand, however, she was smiling and a warmth had taken over her blue eyes.

"This year will be... different, however." she bit her lower lip in a way that was almost girlish. She seemed to be waiting for something, and when it didn't come, she sighed. "I was hoping that you would jump in here..."

Ash cleared his throat, and Lucia stepped aside as he walked towards her.

All in one moment, Netta felt her lungs become full of him.

He approached her, a smile flecking along the curved line of his so very curved teeth.

"For everything that we've done together, there still remains one thing that we haven't done. Yet."

Someone, behind his back, said, "That and almost every Witch, ever."

Netta looked up into his red, deep eyes. She felt something constricting in her chest, a heavy emotion.

"What?"

Ash blinked, disbelief written in his eyes. "Can you really not guess what I'm asking you here?"

And then it hit Netta.

Around her, she thought that she was seeing the world through flashes of thought and colors.

She had nearly fallen backwards and was brought back to reality when Morgan grabbed ahold of her arm to help her up.

As she righted herself, Ash looked at her worridly, cupping the back of his neck.

"I hope that that doesn't mean that the thought of being my wife is enough to make you want to faint in horror."

"W-w-wife?" She said faintly.

She had to mop at her forehead, feeling seemingly every feeling that was ever possible coursing through her.

"Well, that's generally what they call the female in a marriage ceremony," Morgan remarked, her hand still steadied on Netta's arm.

When Netta blinked, she found that Ash was standing only a reach away from her. He took her hands into his massive left, gently holding them in the palm of his hand.

Looking up at his face, which towered over her, she saw the gentle sweep of his eyelashes as he closed his eyes, the almost innocent, hopeful smile on his lips.

"You've called me back twice already. A third time and I'll have to be forced to say something aloud, you know."

He opened his eyes, and Netta felt herself lose complete track of her thoughts as she saw the softness in them.

Her mouth fell open, then the words came out of her before she was cognizent of it.

"I want to be with you - forever, Ashwood."

The feeling of being swept up, up in his arms was an exhilerating feeling that mixed freely with the happiness that she felt.

She felt his warmth through his clothes as he held her, a somehow not unpleasant, yet undeniably oppressive heat that beat through her own clothing.

She clutched at him, her arms flying until they found themselves positioned around his neck. When she opened her eyes, she found herself face to face with him.

She didn't know who leaned in to kiss first, only that her toes were curled tightly as though rheumatic and her hands had become tangled in his hair.

When they finally did pull away, she realized something.

Hazed, Netta said, "Your hair - your mustache -"

Ash blinked a couple of times, seeming to have difficulty focusing on her. Finally, he smiled.

"I got a little help in looking presentable when I spent time with your new family down here. They instructed me in how to not look intimidating by clipping my hair and my beard down to a scruff, that I have to say, makes me look downright charming. "

Indeed, Ash's hair no longer brushed his shoulders in a wild mass, instead brushing just above his ears and the front of his hair had locks that partially covered his eyebrows. His deep red eyes were no longer hidden.

The way that he looked - so male, but so neatly kept, made his smile look boyish, truly happy.

Ash grimaced. "Someone brought up me getting rid of the horns, but, judging by your reactions last night, you're the biggest fan of them."

"Hey," Netta heard a Witch yell out. "that stuff can wait until the honeymoon!"

It was an odd day. If Netta had ever found herself thinking of her wedding day - and she had only ever envisioned it alongside a faceless human man. She had never, in her wildest thinking, figured that she would be sharing its day with mortal Christmas celebration.

Or with a Monster standing as groom.

Still, she did not have it in her to question a thing. On the contrary - as things progressed from that moment, Netta found that she had growing difficulty trying to imagine reasons why not to give in totally.

To happiness. To celebration. To Ashwood - the dangerous one, the enigmatic. The loving, the thoughtful, the insightful.

The nameless, species-less Monster who seemed to have always existed, been there for her. Believed in her in his own way, when there was no one else there for her.

Netta was hustled upstairs, where she was helped into and out of wedding dresses of days past, trying on differing Witch's dresses from the women in the house.

Finally, she settled on a black one that seemed to whisper to her seductively before she even put it on.

It was just a coincidence that its color happened to be what it was, she figured. When she looked at herself in the mirror she could not help but shudder at the color. And she could not stop her hand from caressing the smooth, shining fabric.

The day was filled with an odd, but endearing hybrid of wedding and Christmas celebration. Some of the Christmas celebtration decorations had been given up in light of some nicer decor, Netta found when she went downstairs.

The wedding site was planned to be in the heart of the forest itself. The fact that it was not a long walk at all away from where Anais had met her end - and where Ash and Netta had vented their lustful frustrations - was something that Netta could not ignore.

The Witches of the house helped in cooking a Christmas supper, and Netta, flying to and fro in a slip on occasion and in the dress, helped with a variety of chores. She baked then helped with the magic needed to lift the snow up from the path that they would take into the wood.

If this was at all surreal to Netta, it came mostly in moments when she caught sight of herself in a reflective surface.

Using the magic that she was able to use so well because of what she had done with Ashwood was a shivering, secret pleasure to her.

Reality often came in the form of a Witch rushing past her, hoping to salvage something that she had forogtten that she had left in the oven or someone requesting her help.

Netta's head buzzed as she flew around the house in a stream of busied work.

It could have been an induced delerium or perhaps delayed shock, but Netta found herself not quite wrapping her mind around the planned ceremony to be held in the wood at sunset. There was something else the matter as well.

When the rush died down around the house for a moment, Netta found that she was bothered by someone's preseance - or, at least, the profound lack of it.

"Where's Winnie?" She finally asked to the room of Witches who were taking one of their many alcohol breaks.

"Uh, upstairs, I think," Wu answered before taking a hefty "sip" of red wine.

Netta turned out of the kitchen and walked upstairs. She looked around before she finally found Erwinnia.

Half sitting and half standing against a wide window sill in a room that looked like it was for storage, Erwinnia didn't turn to acknowledge her, even when Netta had stumbled on a box.

Biting her lip, Netta tried to recall a moment in their childhood when the both of them had ever had a chance to interact with each other one on one.

It was difficult to think of any such moment.

She tried to find warmth for her voice as she approached her Sister. "Hey, Winnie, what are you doing up here?"

Erwinnia sighed. "Trying to delay the inevitable."

She turned to acknowledge her, then looked away, not before Netta could see the disgusted look on her face. "You're wearing that? Oh, Goddesses above, what would Hera think to see her own blood this way?"

Netta tensed. "In what way?"

Erwinnia slouched, looking almost as though she meant to make herself disappear. "N-nevermind. Forget I said anything."

"No, I would like to know in what way Hera would think less of me than she already did." Her fist clenched tight, painful as she drove her nails into the palm of her hand.

Erwinnia sighed, then looked over at her, her wet eyes bright with some emotion.

"Neith. You're going through with a wedding. To that - Thing. The same one that was the reason why you had to flee the Coven in the first place."

"Ashwood is not a thing." The words came so quickly and automatically out of Netta that it surprised even her.

For a moment, Erwinnia only gazed at Netta, a bright, powerful emotion brightening her overly-wet eyes. "We both saw what he became, what a Monster he truly is - not a man. A Monster."

Erwinnia looked away, seemed enraptured with looking out of the window. She said, "You can't be so naive as to ignore that, Netta. If the others saw what we did, they would not have been talking to him like that, hugging him like he's a member of the damn family."

Netta was at a loss for what to say.

Finally, she said, "He's not that Monster, in the same way that he was not the human that he was pretending to be for me for all of these years."

"Then, Neith," Erwinnia said, turning to look at her. "tell me, what is he?"

Netta looked at her adopted Sister, found that the Witch had fixed her with an unusually strong stare.

Netta broke, finding that she had to look away.

Erwinnia scoffed. "As I thought. You're trapped with him. You're the only thing I have left, and you're bewitched by that Thing that's going to possess you."

"T-that's not true!"

"Isn't it?"

"You have these Witches now. They are offering you a place, here, with them." Even to Netta's ears, her voice sounded pleading.

Erwinnia looked away then, scratched at her arm absentmindedly.

"Yeah, they want to take me into their Coven while you and... that Thing have a honeymoon. Copulating in the woods, which is... fitting, I suppose."

Netta felt her face heat with embarrassment - or was it anger?

Erwinnia continued. "That's why they decided that both would take place in the clearing. Your... marriage and my binding ceremony."

Netta watched her still adopted Sister carefully.

She was embarrassed to realize how she had never thought to ascribe strong feelings to the quietest Witch in the Oleander coven, but she found that she had been an idiot for not thinking it so before.

She cleared her throat. "Are you... reconsidering it?"

Erwinnia laughed hollowly. "Like I have a choice?"

Netta felt her jaw tightened. "You would be dead otherwise, I think."

Erwinnia turned to look at her, a sarcastic smile on her face. "Doesn't make it any easier on me. Think about it, Netta. This may all be the way that you think already, but these Witches, their attitudes, their beliefs, they're alien to the culture I've been in for my entire life. Their leader, in particular, the admiration she has for Monsters -" she stopped herself, then sighed. "it borders on the taboo, to say the least."

"You can tell?"

""Can tell?"" Erwinnia stood up then, her hands clenched at her sides. "That woman holds an attitude in her that Monsters are - they're as innocent and loving as puppies. She lets two roam freely in her home, and her own Familiar she clings to like an emotional safety blanket. These people's beliefs are dangerous."

Netta looked up then and said something that she never thought that she would dare to say. "Do you think that way because of what happened to you?"

"Don't speak of that to me." She snarled it out. "You don't know what it's like to have your love betrayed, then to have a foreign intelligence invade all of you, not care if it kills you or not. That is what a Monster is - a foreign, invading force. Good for manipulations, but not, never, to be trusted."

Netta felt her hands bunch in the folds of her dress.

She thought about how she was raised, how Monsters were the source of magic, a source that happened to exibit many of the signs of sentience. She had always been taught that they were incapable of anything than a dreary pantomime of love and affection.

She had half believed it, up until two months back.

An old, familiar sense of coiling sadness felt like it was wrapping its way around her neck.

And then she thought of Ash's face, his warmth, his smell.

She recalled the way that a Selkie held a young Witch in her heart with so much ferocity that she fought her fear of Witches to see to it that her love's death was revealed.

How another had dreamed of escape, of seeing the world - probably even if it meant he would fade out in the middle of his journey, his kind unaccustomed as they were to travel.

Although she could feel a tear fall out of her eye, Netta smiled at her wide-eyed Sister.

"I'm sorry about what you went through, Winnie. Truly, I am."

Her Sister's words were eerily reminescent of Hera's.

"Oh, Goddess, you're really going through with it, aren't you? You - you're damning yourself, Netta."

Well, at least I'll only be doing the same thing that I've always done.